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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

in the air

she can


so thoroughly and passionately,

without another 

mortal's soul nearby.


i am a shadow

over broken glass

on surface

like skin

that taught itself

to heal too much.


on the 14th of this month

they will tell my father

"it's alright, you're doing well,

this room will be much more comfortable."

and from that moment on they will watch his time expire.


and somewhere

in this world

someone will

catch a moment

where a yellow flower

braces itself against the snow

in the summer month of august

and the air.

Submitted: October 24, 2020

© Copyright 2020 Mark William Johnson. All rights reserved.

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